Divaricate
by EmmaMary
Summary: Sequel to Prevaricate! She could be dead. As the last word swims into his mind his breath becomes raged and hard, the deep breaths he takes do not seem to fill his lungs and his mind is moving too fast for his body to keep up. RyanTaylor


**And here is the sequel to Prevaricate!**

**Disclaimer- I own nothing.**

**Divaricate**- /dahy-**var**-i-keyt/ _–verb (used without object): _to spread apart; branch; diverge.

* * *

Once the paramedics arrive everyone starts to disperse. The on lookers go on their way and the sound of ignitions blaring can be heard in Ryan's ears. Even the young father places his two young girls into there seats and drives off to his original destination.

Ryan cannot help but think that not a single one of theses people who stood and watched them today will think of Taylor again. They will think of the moronic car accident they witnessed one Sunday afternoon, they will think of the strong boy pulling the fragile girl out of the burning car, but they will never think of Taylor and Ryan. They won't cry if Taylor does not make it, they will not rejoice if she does. They will never know how promising each of their lives would have been, or how much they loved each other. They will not know the young boy has been through this once before, they will not cry for his misfortune.

The thought saddens Ryan beyond all belief.

Ryan is not allowed to ride in Taylor's ambulance. He is told he has to take his own.

"Hospital policy," the harsh women dead pans.

As he watches the two strong men clad in blue heave her gurney into the ambulance, memories flash into Ryan's head. He prays this is not like before, he prays she makes it, prays the next time he sees her her face is not perfect with cream makeup, he wishes that she is in a hospital bed with her eyes wet with tears, not in her best outfit, her eyes drawn closed laying amongst white satin and cherry wood.

Ryan never saw Marissa again after they loaded her into her own ambulance; the thought that he will never see Taylor either makes his knees go weak.

There is a strong arm grasping at his shoulder as his knees hit the cruel gravel and his mind goes dark.

* * *

He cannot tell if it has been hours or minutes when his eyes drift open to the florescent lights blinding his fragile eyes. He opens and closes his lids in an offbeat fashion, blinking to bring the stark room into focus. When he does he sees a young women standing by his afflictive bed.

"Why Mr. Atwood, you're awake!" he voice comes out shrilly, and Ryan squeezes his eyes closed, trying to stop the malaise in his head.

She begins to talk to him quickly, her words running in and out of his ears like water from a hose to a horse's mouth. He is loosing more than he is receiving and by the end of her spiel, the only words that are retained in his memory are concussion, Cohen's, and rest.

She pats his arm with a wide smile before turning he body fluidly towards the door. Her hair is a shiny brown, reflecting off the bright lights above Ryan's head, it reminds him of Taylor's and a sharp pain inflicts his chest.

"Taylor?" he croons to the nurse's ascending figure.

"Oh," she breaths as she turns back towards Ryan again, "the young girl who was in the accident with you."

As Ryan nods a shard twinge prevails in his head.

"I really don't know anything about her, but I will find out for you and let you know as soon as I do, okay."

Ryan smiles in an attempt to not further the pain in his head.

"Now get some sleep," the young nurse chimes and she dims the light.

Ryan is surprised how easily sleep comes.

* * *

"Ryan," a soft female voice hums to the sleeping figure, "Ryan."

The voice is comforting, familiar, and it persuades Ryan to open his eyes.

"Hey sweetie," the voice greets as she swipes a strand of misplaced hair gently from Ryan's forehead.

"Kirsten," he groans in welcome.

"How are you feeling honey?" She asks like the concerned mother she is.

"I'm fine," he chants while propping himself up in the bed, he winces at the pain in his head.

"Maybe you should lie back down kid," Sandy speaks for the first time as he takes two long strides from his place in the doorway and ends up standing next to his wife who is sitting gingerly on the crisp white sheets of the bed.

"No its fine, how's Taylor?"

A look of misery washes over Kirsten's features and Ryan's heart drops.

"What is it?"

"Ryan, listen," Sandy begins, and Ryan knows that it cannot be good, "she broke her lower left arm and collar bone for starters."

"And then they found some internal bleeding and a concussion worse than yours," Kirsten says.

Ryan cannot help but notice that they are not talking in present tense and he feels his forehead begin to glisten with sweat.

"They are doing everything they can," Sandy tells him honestly, "she is in surgery right now."

"Surgery," Ryan chokes.

"They have high hopes though Ryan," a plastered smile dons her face as she speaks.

For some reason this whole accident didn't seem real until now. Now that Ryan knows the consequences of the accident, the truth and the guilt begin to sink in.

"Ryan what happened out there today?" Sandy asks curiously, lightly joining his hand to Ryan's arm.

"It was my fault," Ryan says as his shoulders droop.

"Why? What happened?"

"Taylor was sick, she had a fever, and I made her go lay down in the back of the car. I was really, really worried about her so I stopped in Glendale to buy a thermometer and some medicine to get her fever down, but I was overreacting because her fever wasn't that high, she could have waited till we got back to Newport, but I had to stop. And then when I was trying to get back onto the freeway, some guy ran a red light, I should have looked, should have paid more attention."

"Ryan, that wasn't your fault at all!" Sandy insists.

"If I hadn't of stopped, if I had made Taylor stay sitting up it would have been different."

"This is not your fault Ryan okay, you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time," Kirsten says trying to comfort her son.

"But we wouldn't have been there if I hadn't of put us there."

"We talked to the cops Ryan," Sandy begins, "you were hit from the right side, if Taylor hadn't been sitting in the back seat, she would have been dead on impact."

Ryan shakes his head and forces back the tears that are threatening to fall from his eyes.

The young nurse pushes open the door with a squeak.

"Mr. and Mrs. Cohen, I'm sorry to tell you this but Ryan needs his rest, doctor's orders."

The older couple smiles at the nurse as they nod in agreement before turning back to their son.

"This was not your fault kid."

Ryan too nods lightly in agreement.

"We will wake you when we have any new on Taylor."

"Okay," Ryan says solemnly.

Kirsten kisses him on the cheek before making her way to the door.

"Wait," Ryan calls, "What about Taylor's mom?"

"We called her Ryan," Sandy says sadly, "she didn't seem entirely interested, I'm afraid there is nothing more we can do."

The only response Sandy receives is Ryan slumping his head down onto the flat pillows.

"You know why he is blaming himself for this right?" Kirsten asks her husband as they make there way to the waiting room.

"He still feels guilty about Marissa, about not pulling over."

"Exactly. I thought he got through that along time ago."

"He did," Sandy says, "but then it happened again."

* * *

After Sandy and Kirsten leave Ryan finds it hard to sleep, not when Taylor is lying unconscious with stranger's hands in her stomach. Not when she could be dead.

As that last word swims into his mind his breath becomes raged and hard, the deep breaths he takes do not seem to fill his lungs and his mind is moving to fast for his body to keep up.

Taylor is not dead.

Taylor is not going to die.

Taylor is not leaving him today.

Ryan's breath comes back in a steady tempo. He has fooled himself into believing his thoughts, and it is the only thing that keeps him sane.

His mind becomes numb as the steady pulse of his heart monitor beeps rhythmically, his breath matching it. He focuses on this for as long as he can.

Eventually though, his mind is not strong enough to keep pretending and he must come back into reality. It has been three hours since the Cohen's left his room, probably more since Taylor went under the knife.

He wonders despairingly why there has been no news yet, and begins to believe that this can only mean the worst.

Tears fall slowly from Ryan's eyes as he prays for Taylor to be okay.

It is the first time he has ever prayed in his entire life.

He did not prey as his father was being dragged to jail, as he was being beaten bloodily by any of his mothers dead beat boy friends, as he sat in a prison knowing he was facing hard time or as he found himself on the dangerous streets all alone.

But he is praying for Taylor.

* * *

His eyes have dried of all tears now, but they are still wide open when Kirsten walks in.

Although, Ryan notices, he cannot say the same for her. Tears are running down her face leaving stained trails of red in their wake as she sniffles.

"Taylor," Ryan says in a puff of air, his throat is constricting as he expects the worst.

"She's," Kirsten begins.

Ryan cuts her off however with a croaky "No!"

Kirsten shakes her head fiercely as she sits by Ryan, "No, no, no, no, she's fine Ryan, perfectly fine."

"Can I see her?" Ryan has to ask it right away.

"Sandy is with her now; he didn't want her to wake up alone."

Ryan just nods, at a loss for words.

"She should wake up really soon, she has been out of surgery for almost two hours."

Ryan is about to ask again if she can please go see her again when Sandy strides into the room.

"I have lots good news," Sandy exclaimed "you are being discharged, and Taylor is awake, she's asking for you."

"What room is she in?" He asks frantically.

"I know you want to go see her, but you have to wait five minutes until we get the discharge papers."

Ryan looks at him angrily.

"She's fine Ryan, just go get dressed and then you can go see her."

Five minutes later Ryan, having forgot all about his throbbing headache, strides down the hall to where he is told Taylor's room should be.

As he reaches the designated room number Ryan anxiously pushes open the door with a gentle thrust. Yet, while his eyes fall upon the frail looking girl amongst beeping machines and stained blankets, his demeanor alters.

No longer is he in a frantic rush to see her. A million feelings waft through his soul as he registers not a single one. His heart tells him to walk over to her, place her charily into his arms and never let her go.

His mind, however, disagrees. It keeps his two feet planted firmly on the speckled floor, his mouth agape.

His tears, however, are not stopped and they flow valiantly down his already raw skin and chiseled chin.

Then, in a single unaltered moment, hazel eyes crash into crystal blue ones, both wet with tears. Only then, can Ryan move his heavy feet.

She falls into his arms as he wraps his immense ones around her fractured body, wary of her tender state.

"Ryan," she breaths in a vindicated tone.

He cannot bring himself to utter a single word; instead he lets his salty tears seep into her tangled hair. He feels weak for a just moment, he cannot stop his tears and he feels like a young boy, not a grown man. But as Taylor's voice glides to his ears, he knows he is crying for all the right reasons.

"Oh Ry," she coos. "What's wrong?"

Reluctantly, Ryan lets his arms fall to Taylor's waist as he lets her see his tear stained face.

"I was so scared I was going to lose you. You have no idea how terrified I really was."

Unable to respond, Taylor shakes her head slowly from side to side, as she places it back into Ryan's chest.

"How are you feeling?" Ryan asks after a few soothing moments.

"I hurt," she replies faintly, but as Ryan pulls away so as not to harm her, she pulls him right back to her as she continues, "I want to go home, with you."

Ryan kisses the top of her head before he speaks.

"I love you so much Taylor, I would die without you."

Ryan has never said words that held so much meaning in his entire life, yet he isn't even thinking that they could ring with falseness, they are true and he has no doubt in his mind about it.

"God, I love you too Ryan."

Ryan pulls her away from his chest to look into her eyes.

"Don't ever scare me like that again," he says with a teasing demeanor

It is in that single instant that Ryan sees something in her eyes he has never seen in anyone else's before.

He sees the downright crazy amount of unconditional love he holds for this passionate girl.

But more importantly, he sees his future.

* * *

**I would love it if you would review. Not just for me or this story, but for our beloved OC, that we must all let go of soon.**


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